


A Voice that Calls

by frozensight



Series: Sound the Bugle [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers deals with the aftermath of Project Insight and finds help in unlikely places as well as likely ones. (Directly post-TWS.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Voice that Calls

The first time Steve wakes up sweating after the battle over the Potomac, he thinks it’s like any other nightmare he’s had since waking up from the ice. He’s had enough of them to recognize the way they increase his heart rate and jar him awake at 3am. However, they are happening more and more, particularly while he is in the hospital and Sam has gone home for the night. Despite his familiarity with the brand of nightmares that often come with PTSD, Steve begins to notice that these are slightly different—these he can’t seem to shake off.

Being bedridden doesn’t help, especially when Steve knows he is almost fully healed, but the doctors are persistent in wanting to keep him for observation for another day.

“ _You fell several hundred feet into a river, Captain_ ,” his doctor reminds him for the twentieth time when Steve asks to check himself out at the last changing of the nurses. “ _Just relax and let us do our job._ ”

He has a sinking suspicion that someone wants him to stay there, but he can’t figure out who it is or who would even bother. Steve hadn’t had a long list of people who cared enough to make him stay in the hospital before S.H.I.E.L.D. was revealed to be intertwined with Hydra, and it certainly hasn’t gotten longer  _after_.

Sam seems just as eager for him to get out, and drops by every day for several hours. Natasha has been by to visit once, the day he first woke up, and hasn’t been by since, though Steve figures from a lot of the news he watches while lying prone on his hospital bed that she is genuinely busy. Maria doesn’t seem the visiting type so Steve doesn’t mind her absence, and Fury? Well, he honestly isn’t sure when—or if—he’ll ever see Fury again. He gets a phone call from Bruce wishing him well and a quick recovery; Pepper sends flowers that are supposedly also from Tony; and no one has really heard from Thor since a giant alien ship tried to take out the British Isles.

He keeps the T.V. on for the first day or so until the news gets so repetitive that he has to either keep it off or on any channel that doesn’t have any form of news. Sam likes to turn it to whatever game show he can find, and Steve can’t say he minds as it certainly does the job of distracting him. They talk some, usually about some stray piece of actual news Sam brings in with him from outside the hospital, but mostly they talk about whatever they are watching or not at all. Steve can tell that Sam wants to talk about what happened, but that Sam can also tell that Steve doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.

Part of him thinks that the nightmares will lessen once he gets out of the hospital, away from the machines and the nurses and the check-ups and the constant hum of noise, but he’s wrong. The silence of his apartment—which had been patched up at some point while he was on the run apparently—is worse. He finds that he can’t even think about falling asleep unless he has a record on, and even then, it takes a lot for his brain to shut off. His mind keeps flashing back to the last week and a half, to Fury’s death, to Hydra coming back, to the fight...to Bucky.

It isn’t like he hasn’t had nightmares about Bucky before, or nightmares about war in general, but there is something more to these that sets Steve on edge. Something that makes him increasingly weary, despite being one hundred percent healthy again, and despite knowing that there is a something he can’t name, he doesn’t talk about it with anyone. The closest he gets is the next time he sees Natasha and asks if she can do him a favor.

“You mean besides covering your ass at the hearing?”

Steve gives her a small smile. “Yeah, besides that, Nat.”

She seems to notice his mood and just nods. “Then how can I help you, Cap?”

Three days, five meals, and seven hours of sleep later, Steve receives the folder from Natasha while at Fury’s grave—his mind stalling for a moment at the small, old photo of Bucky paperclipped to the larger one of him in some kind of cryogenic capsule. He almost asks her the questions that have been brewing in his mind, but she is gone before the words can leave his mouth. He holds his tongue about that, and instead begins making tentative plans for what he and Sam will do in terms of finding Bucky. They quickly come to agreement that the first objective will be replacing Sam’s wings.

“How are we gonna do that, Steve?” Sam asks as they make their way out of the cemetery. “We can’t exactly ask S.H.I.E.L.D. for help at the moment; they’re too busy restructuring and, you know, not really existing.”

“I’ve got a friend who can help us with everything we’ll need,” Steve starts, patting Sam on the back, “How do you feel about a trip to New York City?”

*****

The train to the Big Apple is relaxing, enough so that Steve accidentally falls asleep while he's looking out the window and he doesn’t wake up until Sam nudges him as they pull into the station. Sam makes a face at him as he points outside to where Tony Stark stands, Happy just behind him and reporters and bystanders surrounding them. Steve barely suppresses a groan as he picks up his duffel and slings it over his shoulder.

“Anyone call for a pick-up?” asks Tony as Steve and Sam step off the train. Steve internally winces the moment the camera flashes start, and sighs as he shakes Tony’s hand.

“I didn’t call ahead so that you could arrange a press conference in the middle of the train station, Stark.”

“You also didn’t give me enough time to prepare for a visit, so you’ll pardon the fact that I didn’t come to get you in the good suit. Besides, it is the middle of a work day for most people, Rogers; I was at a lunch meeting and figured I’d pick you and your feathered friend up on my way back to the Tower.” Tony shifts his gaze away from Steve, his hand reaching up to lower his sunglasses as he examines Sam. “Speaking of feathers, so this is the winged crusader that helped out the country’s mascot take down the three helicarriers I helped install repulsors into.”

“The name is Sam Wilson, Mr. Stark, and to be fair, the helicarriers were under the control of Hydra.”

Tony waves one hand as he shakes Sam’s offered one before he walks off, leading the way just behind Happy as they exit the station. “To be fair,  _Mr._  Wilson, I’d rather S.H.I.E.L.D. stop making the damn things in the first place— _especially_ ones with my tech that are then taken over by the Nazi rejects. I told them when I gave them the specs for the repulsors that I’d noticed helicarriers have a one hundred percent chance of crashing, but Fury ignored my warning. As always.”

“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, Stark,” interjects Steve, one hand up to shield his face from the cameras as they walk out the doors with Happy leading the way to the limo parked on the curb.

That elicits a snort from Tony as he opens the back door to the limo. He quickly poses for a picture, pulling Steve to his side and holding up a peace sign before whispering, “Please, I think we both know I’m too intelligent to believe that Nick Fury is actually dead. I’m fairly certain the man could outlive roaches in a nuclear winter, in fact, I’m pretty sure he has.” He slides into the limo, and it takes Steve an extra couple seconds to follow so that Sam can too. Tony taps the door from the inside and declares, “To the Tower, my good Happy!”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

The inside of the limo is quiet for a few minutes, with the exception of the soft sound of the radio floating back to them from the driver’s cab and the rapid tapping of Tony’s fingers on the leather of the seats. Steve is surprised that Tony can be silent for so long, but he really doesn’t have anything to say to break the silence himself so he lets it carry on around them.

“Who’d you have lunch with?” Both Steve and Tony turn to look at Sam, who shrugs and awkwardly raises his hands in defense. “You know, if I can ask.”

“It was a business lunch. I met with a couple of engineers by the names Wyche and Pimacher. They have some genuinely interesting ideas about the next generation of technology, which is high praise coming from me.” Tony glances between Steve and Sam. “Speaking of tech and interesting ideas, I hear you have a project for me, Cap?”

Steve nods as he digs out his sketchbook from his duffel and hands it over to Tony after he flips to the right page. “During the fight, Sam’s wings were damaged, and without S.H.I.E.L.D., neither of us exactly has the resources to fix them.”

“Not to mention that they were stolen from Fort Meade to begin with, but I’d say the loss of your employer would be a problem too,” mumbles Tony as he goes over the drawings. “You know, technically the Avengers Initiative doesn’t exist anymore, as it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation.”

“And when did that ever stop Tony Stark before?”

Tony laughs as he pulls out his phone and scans the sketch into it. “Catching on pretty quick, Rogers. Recreating what the military had would be easy, especially if you still have the remnants of the original and these sketches.”

“But…?” prompts Sam, an eyebrow raised.

Grinning, Tony hands the sketchbook back to Steve and says, “But where’s the fun in recreating when you can invent?”

“Mr. Stark, you don’t have to--”

“Call me Stark or Tony, kid,  _please_ ,” interrupts Tony, “and it’s no trouble. It’s been too long since I’ve had something new to build, and Pep’s been telling me I need to make something other than Iron Man armor anyway.”

Steve frowns at Tony. “I’m pretty sure she means that you should get out of your workshop more.”

“That’s your interpretation, Cap. My point is I’ll make the wings as well as anything else you two knights need for the quest you’re getting ready for.”

“We’re not going on a  _quest_.”

“Journey, mission—whatever. You’re going to need uniforms and money and possibly even transportation, and I’m the guy to help with all three of those.”

Steve balks a little at that, his mouth falling open slightly. “You’re just going to give us all of that? Tony, that stuff costs millions .”

Tony levels Steve with a look and says plainly, “Steve, I let the Hulk play around in my R&D department and in my spare time I kick evil’s ass in a flying suit of armor, do I look like I care about costs?”

“ _Tony_ —”

“Shut up, Steve. You and Wilson here are going to stay at the Tower, and I’m going to outfit you two like proper superheroes. Accept that, or go find him without my generous and  _free_ help.”

Silence descends over them again, and Steve wants desperately to ask how the hell Tony knows about Bucky when he hasn’t mentioned it and there has been hardly any mention of the Winter Soldier in the news. Sam puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezes before he could question him though, and says to Tony, “Thank you, Stark. Steve and I appreciate this very much.”

“You’re very welcome. When we arrive at the Tower, you two can either follow me to my office, go bug Bruce in the lab, or wait for the end of the work day in the penthouse.” Tony shrugs as he shifts his gaze to look out the window. “Regardless, dinner will most likely be take-out, courtesy of Pepper or Bruce, unless someone feels like cooking with whatever odds and ends we have in the kitchen.” He makes a face before yelling towards the front of the limo, “Hey Hap, remind me to ask Pepper whose turn it is to do the grocery shopping.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nobody else speaks as they pull into the parking garage under the Tower and Happy lets them out at the elevator before going to park.

“Don’t we need to wait for Happy?” asks Steve, looking quickly over his shoulder to where Happy has driven off. “Isn’t he like your bodyguard or something?”

“He was my bodyguard, as he likes to remind me, but these days he’s  _Pepper’s_  head of security.” Tony sounds like it is an argument he’s had multiple times before, and Steve just raises an eyebrow at the reaction. “He only agreed to drive me because I told him I’d get him to tickets to a game or...something. I don’t know I wasn’t paying attention; I’m sure Pepper will take care of it.

“Anyway,” begins Tony as they all enter the elevator, “What do you two gentlemen want to do?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Dr. Banner for a bit.” Steve glances at Sam, who shrugs indifferently at his decision.

“I’m just here for new wings, Cap. I don’t mind if we hang out with your friends.”

“R&D it is, but first stop—security, so you two can get the badges I had made before I left for lunch.” Tony presses a button and swipes his ID card and the elevator takes off. “I couldn’t find a good picture of you, Wilson, so we’ll add the picture for yours later. The entire staff will know not to bother you though since you’re walking with Captain America.”

“It really feels like you’re going all out for us, Tony; it’s really not necessary to—”

“Cap, do you remember when we were on that helicarrier before the whole alien space portal over Manhattan thing and I found the files for the tesseract nukes and you found the Hydra weapons?” Steve nods. “Yeah, well I probably should’ve dug deeper then because if I had maybe I’d have discovered this whole Hydra bullshit out sooner, and Fury wouldn’t have to be masquerading as a dead man. Because as much as I have always found S.H.I.E.L.D. annoying, it was a useful organization to have around, and now? Now it’s not, and that’s something I didn’t think was possible.”

Steve doesn’t have anything to say to that because he hasn’t thought of it that way. He’d actually forgotten about finding the Hydra weapons on that helicarrier what seems like years ago even though it has barely been even one. When Tony phrases it like that, he also feels like maybe they should’ve seen the whole thing coming.

“Well,” begins Steve, a small—possibly self-deprecating—smile on his face, “hindsight can’t do anything, so there’s no use in dwelling, is there?”

Tony stares at Steve for a couple seconds, and he might have said something but instead the elevator dinged, letting them know they are at their destination and Tony smiles instead as he gestures for them to exit first, “Gentlemen, the security floor.”

Steve leads the way out of the elevator, vaguely thinking that it is nice to walk out of the elevator instead of crashing through glass into a freefall out of a building and into more glass.

*****

“How have you been, Dr. Banner?” Steve and Sam have been left unceremoniously at the R&D lab by Tony, who claims that he has much more important things to do than go over projects with Bruce to show off. Steve has a feeling that Tony wants to get a headstart on wings for Falcon.

Bruce looks up from where he’s bent over a laptop and grins at them. “I’ve been a lot worse, Captain, so I can’t exactly complain. At least here, Tony is a lot easier to distract than he was on that helicarrier.” His face stiffens a fraction as he stands straighter. “How are you though? Tony has been keeping me up to date about what happened in D.C., and it doesn’t sound like it was as easy as New York.”

Steve sighs, knowing that Sam watches him closely for his reaction. “I’m doing as well as can be expected, Doctor. I’ve fully recovered, and I avoided that hearing.” He meets Bruce’s eyes as he adds, “I’ve been a lot worse.”

That makes Bruce snort, but he accepts the answer without prying further. Instead he shifts his gaze to Sam and introduces himself, “I’m Dr. Bruce Banner.”

“Sam Wilson.”

“Ah, yes, the ‘winged wonder’ as Tony refers to you in his daily news briefings.” Bruce pulls off his glasses and holds them loosely in his hand. “I suppose he left you two here with me so he could go work on a project?”

“Something like that, but if we’re intruding, Sam and I can leave—”

Bruce waves away the rest of Steve’s sentence as he returns his glasses to their perch. “No, no, you’re fine Captain. I am due for a break anyway. I’ll show you to the upper floors—give you the ‘grand tour’ as Tony would call it.” He types a bit more on his laptop before clicking something, waiting, and then closing it. When he smiles at the two of them, he gives the appearance of an incredibly relaxed yet tense man, definitely a much calmer man than Steve first met on the helicarrier months ago. “I’ll give you a better tour than Tony gave me anyway. It took me weeks to remember where the kitchen was.”

Sam and Steve exchange a look as they follow Bruce out of the lab and down the hallway. “Just how big is this place?”

“Well you know Tony, Captain—he loves his stuff bigger than necessary.” Bruce looks over his shoulder at them grinning, as he stops in front of a door that is not the elevator. “You guys mind taking the stairs? I’ve found it calms the Other Guy considerably more than being in the elevator.”

“How many floors are we going up?” asks Sam as he eyes the door.

“Only about forty.”

Steve smirks as he turns to Sam. “Only forty, huh?”

“No,” begins Sam, and Steve finds himself fighting laughter, “No, no, no, we are  _not_ racing up the stairs.”

Bruce swings the door open and steps back, lips pursed as he tries not to smile. “Ready…”

“ _No_.”

“Set…”

“I hate you both.”

“Go!”

*****

“I demand a rematch!”

“No, I won fair and square, Cap,” puffs out Sam, leaning on the wall outside of the door that leads to the first floor of the penthouse. Steve crosses his arms as he stands next to him, both of them waiting for Bruce to catch up.

“But I  _got_ here first, I just didn’t  _stop_.”

“Did they not have the story of the tortoise and the hare back in the ‘40s, Captain?” Steve turns to see Bruce climbing the stairs at a steady pace, seemingly unperturbed about being the last to arrive even though he is their tour guide.

“We did, but unlike the hare, I didn’t stop to rest.”

“No, you just overshot your destination by eight floors because you were overzealous.”

Steve grunts, his lips curling into a smile, “When you put it like that I guess it does seem a little silly. I’ll beat ya next time, Sam.”

Sam gives a breathy laugh in return as he straightens. “I’ll hold you to that, Cap, because I don’t think I could win that again if I tried.”

All three of them laugh as Bruce leads the way onto the floor, much of which tapers off as Steve and Sam take in the appearance of where they are going to be apparently staying for the foreseeable future until Tony lets them off on their mission.

“This is like a six star hotel, we can’t stay here,” murmurs Steve as he gawks at his surroundings, his eyes not believing that this is only the first floor of the several that compose of the penthouse section of Stark Tower.

“Here?” Bruce chuckles as he walks further in. “No, Cap, this isn’t a living area floor; this is where the second kitchen and gym are. Our rooms are on two floors up, with Tony’s private lab directly above us.”

“Does Stark also have his own private movie theater in this place? Or perhaps a full sized restaurant?” Sam looks overwhelmed, but smiles wide as he takes in everything around them.

“Part of the main living room floor has an extensive entertainment system, and the main kitchen is quite fantastic, but unfortunately Tony cares more about his experiments than catering to other people.” Bruce waves them on to follow him, taking them past the second—and apparently smaller kitchen—and towards the gym. “He does pride himself on his movie collection though, as it is quite vast. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you helped yourself to it. He certainly hardly ever watches them.”

Sam faces Steve, grin splitting his face apart. “Dude, we  _have_ to stay here.”

Steve snorts, a smile on his own face. “Knowing Tony, Sam, I don’t think we’d have much of a choice even if I don’t like the idea of us mooching off of him.”

“I felt the same way at first, Cap, but Tony has a weird way of making you feel welcome even when you’re not giving anything back to him. I think he just likes taking care of people without really seeming like he cares.” Bruce shakes his head, like he thinks Tony is ridiculous, and puts his hand on the panel to the right of the door that leads into the gym. “I think you’ll like this, Steve. I’m pretty sure Tony redesigned this place with the idea that more of us would be moving in with him.”

Intrigued, Steve moves past Bruce and into the gym first, instantly awestruck by what he finds. Faintly he’s aware that Sam and Bruce enter after him, but he’s too busy eyeing the punching bags over in the corner that definitely look like they are built to take a decent beating.

“Stark sure doesn’t do things small,” mutters Sam, and behind Steve, Bruce laughs.

“Some days it feels like Tony invented the phrase ‘go big or go home.’ He certainly has adopted it as his life motto.” Bruce then goes into an explanation of what is all in there and that there are small locker rooms with showers adjacent, and Steve can—and can’t—believe that Tony has a better gym than S.H.I.E.L.D. ever did.

“It’s hard to believe there’s more and that we get to  _use_ it.” Steve quietly agrees with Sam because even though he’d come to accept Tony as part of the Avengers and something of a friend, he’s still grappling with the idea that Tony is going to let them stay there for absolutely nothing.

“If this is your reaction to the gym, I can only imagine what you’ll do when we get to the entertainment system.” Bruce waits by the door for them to finish exploring. “Shall we move on?”

*****

It has been a week since he and Sam arrived at Stark Tower. Bruce and Pepper have made them feel right at home, giving them free range and access to everywhere except Tony’s private lab—and even that they could enter if Tony or Bruce were already inside—and really, there’s not much of a reason for Sam or Steve to go in there unless they’re being shown something anyway.

He hasn’t seen much of Tony in that week. In fact, he’s seen more of Pepper, and she’d left for Malibu twice to handle business. Bruce assures him that this is normal Tony behavior and Steve can believe it; he just didn’t expect to live in Tony’s building and then never see him. Not that Sam and he haven’t been keeping occupied in the gym they find themselves with full access to, and Sam has been abusing the entertainment center to educate Steve on movies he considers classics.

Steve has been so busy hanging out with Sam and Bruce, that he’d almost completely forgotten about his nightmares, that is until he wakes up in a cold sweat in his new bedroom at Stark Tower. It takes him a moment to blink away the images of Bucky as he knew him overlapping with what he’s been turned into—the words _I’m with you ‘til the end of the line_ echoing in his head until he can’t tell if it was him or Bucky who said it.

He tries to go back to sleep, but he can’t get Bucky’s face out of his head. A glance at the clock by his bed tells him it’s too late to get Sam and watch a movie, so he decides to head over to the gym instead. He slips on some sweats, sneaks out of his room, and jogs downstairs to the proper floor. When he walks in, JARVIS asks, “Would you like for me to put on some music, Captain?”

Holding the punching bag still in front of him, Steve thinks about it before saying, “Play whatever you’d recommend, JARVIS.”

“Very well, sir.” If he hadn’t known Tony so well, or perhaps if his ‘musical education’ hadn’t included classic rock, Steve might’ve jumped out of his skin at the sudden loud beat. Normally he’d leave the AC/DC and Black Sabbath to Tony, but tonight—morning, whatever—it seems to fit the mindless mood that Steve wants to achieve. He gets why Tony likes listening to it in his lab all the time.

Time slips away from Steve as he goes to work on the punching bag, pulling his punches just enough so that he doesn’t destroy it like the last one—Tony had shrugged it off and ordered a new one, but Steve still doesn’t like the idea of costing the man more money than he’s already spending on him and Sam. It’s been long enough that his mind is blank except for the brief calculations of when and how to punch and the thrum and steady beat of the music filtering in around him. Needless to say, he definitely doesn’t expect it when the music dims and Tony’s voice comes from behind him.

“Isn’t it a bit late to start breaking in my new punching bag, Cap?”

“Tony!” Steve spins around sharply, coming face to face with a Tony who looks like he hasn’t slept in a while, but still manages to look more energetic than Steve feels. “What are you doing awake?”

“Same as you, apparently—not sleeping.” Tony takes a swig of whatever is in his water bottle before adding, “I would think the great Captain America wouldn’t have to deal with such human things as insomnia.”

“The 21st century may have a lot of things, but I don’t think a cure for nightmares is one of them.”

That makes Tony laugh as he watches Steve thoughtfully. “True enough, Rogers; I’d have that patented in a nanosecond if there was one.” He takes another drink and blurts, “Wanna spar?”

Steve blinks. “What?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I figure you don’t want to talk about the nightmares, otherwise you probably would’ve bothered to wake Wilson up, so since I came down here to exhaust myself into sleeping, we can chase each other’s demons away in a friendly sparring match.”

He gets into the boxing ring that sits in the middle of the room without waiting for Steve to reply, and Steve cracks a smile as he drinks from his own water bottle before he sets it down and gets into the ring himself after he picks up a pair of gloves.

“So why are you up, Tony?”

Settling into a fighting position that he must’ve learned from Happy, Tony shrugs, cracking a small grin as Steve gets ready as well. “Oh you know, the usual—caught up working in my lab, fell asleep on the bench, nightmare, the ol’insomnia acting up again.”

“The usual,” Steve repeats deadpanned as he dodges a punch from Tony.

“It’s unusual when I don’t have problems falling asleep.” Tony doesn’t duck fast enough, and Steve’s glove lands on his shoulder, pushing him back into the rope.

“I’m pretty sure that means you should see a doctor, Tony.”

“Well, the doctor won’t tell me anything I don’t already know, so why bother? I’ve actually been getting better, or so Pepper says.”

“Define getting better.”

“I can stay asleep for five hours instead of four.” Tony grins after he finally lands a hit on Steve’s chest. “I’m told that’s almost average.”

Steve scoffs, “Tony Stark, striving for average.”

“It’s ridiculous that the one thing most people achieve without effort, I struggle with, huh?” He stumbles from a glancing blow, but remains on his feet. “Anyway, not to stick my nose into your business more than it already is, but you should probably talk to Wilson about whatever it is your nightmare was about.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

“Because I didn’t tell Pepper about my nightmares and panic attacks at first, and I almost killed her in my sleep.” Steve’s arms fall to his side, and he gapes at Tony, who sighs as he also stands more relaxed. “Yeah, long story, but the gist of it is that I was suffering some…repercussions from the whole going into the wormhole and almost dying thing, and because I didn’t talk about it with anyone for months after the fact, I caused a lot of damage to myself and to those I love.”

Steve leans on one of the corner posts and eyes Tony carefully. “You mean that whole Christmas debacle with the President was because you were suffering from PTSD?”

Tony looks like he’s going to object for a second, but then he nods. “Yeah, I guess you could say it like that.” He waves his gloved hands around, making Steve think for a moment that he is going to fall out of the ring. “Anyway, my point is—you need to talk to someone about it before it all blows up in your face. I talked to Pepper and Bruce and Rhodey, and you should talk to Sam or hell, Romanov if you can find her, but you’re gonna have to talk to someone eventually, Steve.”

He falls silent, and Steve pointedly avoids looking at him, preferring to keep his eyes on the clock on the far wall that is proudly declaring the time to be 6:27 AM in bright red digital numbers. Deep down he knows Tony’s right. He has wanted to talk about it for awhile, but hasn’t found the words or the time. Every chance he thinks about it, the moment feels wrong somehow, and while he trusts Sam with his life, he still has only known the kid for a short period of time and doesn’t quite feel wholly comfortable talking about everything that’s bothering him. Natasha, maybe, he could confide in, but as Tony said, finding her would be a hell of a job at the moment. Steve sighs as he forces himself to meet Tony’s eyes, which haven’t left his direction.

“I don’t suppose I could just talk to you about it all, could I?”

That seems to catch Tony off guard, but he doesn’t appear unwilling as he says, “I mean, you could, but I’ve been told I’m not the very best listener. I apparently interject my opinion a little too much and too strongly for some people’s tastes.” Steve snorts, and Tony flashes him a grin because they both know those are Pepper’s words. The grin quickly fades into a more serious expression though. “Besides, I have a feeling you need to talk about Barnes, and you’d be better off talking to Wilson about him.”

Steve feels like there should be a giant cataclysmic pit opening up beneath him to swallow him up, and he almost glances around to make sure it hasn’t because of how often those types of things seem to happen. “Right, sorry Tony, I’d completely forgotten in all of the mayhem that he was the one who—”

Tony cuts him off with a wave of his hand. His tone is cheerful, but the expression on his face and in his eyes is far from it. “Don’t worry about it, Steve. It’s a horrible coincidence, but the fact still remains that he was brainwashed and manipulated to do what he did. I grew up listening to tales of you and the Howling Commandos during the few hours my father would spend with me. I know who the real Sergeant Barnes is, who the Winter Soldier is, and I know they are not necessarily the same person. It’s why I want to help you and Sam find him—to give him a chance to redeem his past unfortunate deeds. I just also don’t trust myself to personally help you.”

“You’re doing more than enough as is, Tony. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“You can repay me by talking to Wilson about whatever it is that’s bugging you, and then you can bring home your best friend.” Tony bows out of the ring, taking off his gloves as he hops to the floor. “Nice sparring with you, Rogers. I’ll hit you up the next time I can’t sleep.”

Steve waits until the door slides shut behind Tony before sinking to the floor of the boxing ring, his back up against the corner post as his eyes drift up to the ceiling. He sits there for another fifteen minutes, the music JARVIS put on when he first arrived still playing quietly, until he gathers himself up and heads back to his room to sleep on what Tony said.

*****

It’s a few more weeks before Steve finally confides in Sam—weeks of nightmares waking him in the middle of the night, weeks of punching bags and sporadic sparring matches with a Tony Stark who was much more focused than before. Once he does, Steve honestly can’t understand why he ever held back. Sam tells him it’s fine, normal even, to not want to talk about it, but that he’s glad Steve did eventually talk to him.

“I wouldn’t have done it this soon or maybe even at all, if Tony hadn’t talked to me.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at that. “Stark?”

Steve explains that night in the gym, how Tony himself has been where Steve is, how he didn’t want Steve to go through the same problems he experienced. Sam quietly nods throughout the whole thing, and when Steve finishes, he sees that Sam is grinning smugly. “What’s that face for, Sam?”

“Oh nothing, just that it seems even when I’m trying on a new uniform, I’m still helping soldiers with their problems.”

“Tony would take great offense at being called a soldier.”

“Yeah, but you’re not denying that in his own special way he is one.”

Steve pauses, unsure what to say for a moment before he grins as well. “A captain has to have a company, doesn’t he?”

Sam returns the grin. “Sir, yes, sir.”

*****

Almost like Tony had been waiting specifically for Steve to talk to Sam about his nightmares, the day after, Tony calls the two of them down to his private lab. When they walk in, Tony is sitting at a desk with a joystick—a very concentrated expression on his face, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth included.

“What’s up, Stark? You finished with my wings yet?”

Tony gives Sam a confused glance—he barely looks away from his screen. “What? I finished those like a month ago; no, this is about something else.” He gestures with a free hand over to Pepper who is standing there, holding a measuring tape, and in general looking like she’s about to do something way below her pay grade. “Boys, while I’m good at guessing measurements, I’m sorry to say I’ve been too busy to guess yours. Pepper, here, will take them, and then your new crime fighting costumes can be completed.”

“Tony, you really don’t need to do this; Sam and I  _have_ clothes.”

“Pfft, but what’s a super awesome mission without super awesome uniforms? Pep, show them the mock-ups I did.” His eyes don’t deviate from his screen, and as Steve passes he’s pretty sure he hears Tony mumble, “It’s like a fucking game of operation down here.”

“So what’s he giving you for doing this?” asks Steve when they get over to her.

Pepper grins wickedly. “Oh, he may have mentioned something about getting to measure the inseam for a couple of muscled soldiers.” Steve raises an eyebrow at her, smiling while Sam is next to him chuckling. She shrugs. “And he’s going to give me an extra week of vacation during which he promises not to destroy the company.”

“That was one time! I—shit.” They all turn their heads to see what Tony’s doing, but if anything he’s more hunched over the joystick and not paying attention than before.

“Anyway,” Pepper begins again as she types a couple things into the tablet she is holding before passing it to Sam and Steve, “here’s what he has in store for you two.”

Steve takes the tablet, and his eyes widen at the sight of what Tony has created for them. “But this—this is…”

“Fuck yeah!” cheers Tony from behind them. They hear him muttering and cursing for a few more minutes before he says, “Go team yay,” and walks over to them with a giant smirk on his face. “Yes, it’s very similar to your original outfit. I figured it is what you’re most comfortable with, and has the highest potential in triggering a memory with Barnes.”

“You get it?” inquires Pepper, her lips trying not to quirk up into a full smile.

“I got it,” replies Tony as he rocking on the balls of his feet, grinning happily. He snaps his fingers and points to the tablet Steve is still holding in shock—and just the tiniest bit of confusion as to what the hell they’re going on about. “Rogers, Wilson, you got any qualms or remarks about the designs? Speak now or forever wear a costume you hate.”

“It’s…it’s great, Tony.” Steve’s voice is soft as he hands the tablet over to Sam so he can get a better look.

“I’m digging the whole actually having a costume to even wear thing.” Sam looks over the tablet’s display, his face incapable of anything but a certain childish glee. “This thing looks so awesome, Stark.”

“I was hoping you’d like it. Colors and everything good?” Sam nods, and Tony claps his hands and swipes the tablet back. “Excellent, then I leave you in the incredibly skilled hands of Ms. Potts. I’m going to go talk to Bruce, and then I’ll be back.”

He walks off, tablet in hand, and Pepper faces them, the measuring tape in her hand. “Let’s get started shall we?”

*****

“I thought you said you were coming back?” asks Pepper as she leads the way into Bruce’s lab down in R&D, Sam and Steve trailing behind her.

Tony doesn’t look up from where he’s crouched over a computer with Bruce. “I know, but we made a breakthrough on the device. I couldn’t leave.”

“The device?” Steve steps up next to Pepper in an effort to see the schematics Bruce and Tony are bent over. “What’s it supposed to do?”

“In theory it’s supposed to help people with Alzheimer’s regain their memories,” explains Bruce, meeting Steve’s eyes and giving him a small smile.

Steve’s mouth opens to ask what he’s thinking, but he can’t. Sam, whose brow furrows at the looks exchanging between Steve and Bruce, speaks up, “Alzheimer’s? What does Alzheimer’s have to do with anything?”

Tony drags his eyes away from the screen, but doesn’t look in Steve’s direction—focusing on Sam instead. “Technically? Nothing, but it has similar characteristics of someone else we want to help, so I thought…Two birds, one stone.”

“Bucky.” Steve is stuck between grateful and shocked, and drowning in disbelief. After all Tony has already done for them and despite the undeniable connection between Tony and a past mission of Bucky’s, he’s still working hard to help him. “Tony, I—”

“Thank me for what I’m doing, Rogers, and I’ll throw you out of this tower. I was commissioned months ago to work on coming up with something that counteracts the effects of Alzheimer’s. The fact that it is also potentially something that could help Barnes is a side-product of coincidence, okay?” Their eyes finally meet, and though it’s brief, he gets the feeling that Tony is doing this for more than just Steve. Tony’s focus returns to the screen as he taps a couple of things before addressing Pepper. “I’m assuming the measurements are finished?”

“Already inputted and sent off to the tailor in Queens you like.” Pepper gives Steve an apologetic smile, but doesn’t linger any longer than Tony himself. “Should I e-mail them for you too, or can I get back to being the CEO of your company?”

Tony waves her away. “I’ll do it. You know how I love bribing people so I get my stuff faster.” Pepper rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face doesn’t leave as she excuses herself from the lab. Tony straightens—his back popping as he stretches—and puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Facing Sam and Steve, Tony smirks as if he hadn’t been acting differently a few seconds ago. “Enough work for now, these permutations are gonna take a few hours to finish calculating, so how about we all go upstairs and watch a movie? I’m feeling a beer and pizza night.”

“Steve hasn’t finished crossing Star Wars off his list yet,” chimes in Sam.

“That,” Tony begins, pointing at Steve while he forces Bruce to his feet, “is a damn crime. We’re starting over with  _A New Hope_.”

Bruce snorts as he allows himself to be pushed out of the lab ahead of Tony. “Is there any other place to start?”

“Not if you care about the franchise,” adds Sam.

“Guys, I don’t think—”

“Nope!” Tony cuts Steve off, pushing him with the hand that isn’t shoving Bruce towards the lab exit. “We’re watching them  _all_. There’s nothing you can do, young padawan, but watch and learn.”

Sam’s walking beside Tony and says, “He’s  _clearly_ more of an Ewok, Stark.”

Tony makes some kind of choking noise, and Steve opens his mouth again to speak when Bruce supplies, “Yeah, maybe an Ewok on steroids that escaped from one of the Empire’s animal testing facilities.”

Both Tony and Sam start laughing, and Steve rolls his eyes as they get into the elevator and start moving upwards. He lets them shove and push him along as they set up in the living room and Tony orders the pizza. He’s boxed in between Sam and Tony on the couch, a beer in one hand and a bowl of popcorn on his lap. As the opening words begin to scroll across the screen, all three of them begin talking about when they first saw it and reading the narration out loud and in general not being very quiet.

Steve sits back and enjoys the atmosphere. Somehow it doesn’t feel right to tell them that he watched all the movies the previous week during his five night stretch of not sleeping. He’ll especially not own up to the fact he started with  _A Phantom Menace_.

*****

The nightmares don’t stop because Steve shares them with Sam, despite how much he wishes that’s how it worked. He wakes up sweaty and breathing heavily the night before they’re set to leave. His eyes stay open, fixed on the blank ceiling above him, until he regains control of his breath, and then they slide shut. He attempts to go back to sleep, but his brain is now wide awake and churning with the images of Bucky and the war and Project Insight and Fury dying and then being alive again and falling—they  _always_ seem to end with Steve falling into water.

He thinks about waking Sam up—he’s done it a couple of times since he told him—but tomorrow is too important that Steve decides to leave it for in the morning. There will be plenty of time to talk while they’re traveling. Instead he heads towards the gym, half wondering if Tony will be in there tonight (he hasn’t been in there since Steve learned about the Alzheimer’s device).

The gym is empty when Steve walks in, and without prompting, JARVIS immediately puts on the same classic rock playlist Steve has become accustomed to working out to over the past month. Steve attacks the punching bag—another new one, this time not in replacement of a broken one, but more like a preemptive replacement, this time made specifically by Tony for Steve—and he keeps at it until he hears the sound of the door opening, a noise he hadn’t even realized he’s been listening for.

“So much for a good night’s rest before the big day, huh?” asks Tony nonchalantly as he walks over to the equipment area and grabs two sets of gloves.

“Too anxious I think; they’re always worse when I’m gearing up for something.” Steve catches the gloves Tony throws at them and they head to the boxing ring at the same time.

“Don’t I know that,” mutters Tony as he climbs into the ring before he begins stretching his arms and legs.

Steve climbs in after him, standing on the other side of the ring, watching Tony for the signal that he is ready to begin sparring. “What about you? Just the usual insomnia, or did you have a nightmare too?”

Tony glances up at him, one arm being held behind his head to stretch. “I thought we were gonna spar, not have a therapy session.”

With a shrug, Steve falls into position as he waits for Tony. “Who ever said we couldn’t do both?’

That makes Tony snort as he puts his arms up and begins the little shuffle dance he does every time he spars with Steve. “Fair point, Rogers. Insomnia is on vacation for the time being; tonight’s late night stroll is due to her fair sister, the nightmare.”

“Anything you want to discuss?”

“Not really; I’d much rather get my ass handed to me by Captain America.”

Steve smirks at Tony. “I can handle that.”

They spar for almost half an hour before Tony backs away from Steve and purposefully falls to the floor, landing on his back. One arm is thrown over his face and the other is resting on his stomach. Steve chuckles breathlessly at him, but plops down with his legs crossed next to him.

“It was the wormhole again.” Tony’s voice is soft, barely loud enough for Steve to hear over the still playing music from JARVIS. “It’s always the same goddamn one about the wormhole where I’m just surrounded by darkness and I’m falling and helpless and I fucking hate it.”

“Mine always end with me falling too, though I’m usually plummeting through water.” Steve’s eyes are focused on the gloved hand draped over Tony’s face, but he doesn’t see it—he sees water all around him, the light around him slowly fading as he falls deeper and deeper. “I doubt I’ll ever go bobbing for apples without having flashbacks.”

Tony makes a noise that sounds like he tried to laugh and it became something else halfway out of his throat. Steve appreciates the attempt. Tony’s body doesn’t move except to breathe until he speaks, barely above a whisper, “Everyone thinks we’re so perfect, that our lives are only consumed with fighting bad guys and saving people. If only they knew how fucked up we all are.”

“I think to some degree they know.” An eye peeks around Tony’s arm, and Steve smiles at him. “I mean, sure, a majority of the people out there probably underestimate the good we do, but that’s not their fault. They just don’t understand or know the depths of what we do to protect them, and honestly that’s probably for the best—but the rest of the people? The people who get what it’s like to put your life on the line for hundreds of people or more that you don’t know? They get it, and that’s enough.”

“I should’ve known better than to think that Captain America would give me anything other than a sappy motivational speech.”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t say it was a  _bad_ thing—just cheesy as hell.”

Steve leans back on his hands and sighs. “Okay, it might have been a little cheesy, but my point still stands.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rest easy knowing that there are people out there who get it, I know.”

“Well, that too, but mostly I wanted to remind you that you’re not alone, Tony.”

“I know that.”

“Do you though?”

Tony fully removes his arm from covering his face and props himself up on it instead, fixing Steve with a contemplative expression. “You’re much better at therapy than Bruce.”

“That would probably be because Bruce isn’t a therapist.”

“All doctors can be therapists if they try hard enough.”

Steve ignores that in favor of saying, “You wanna go another round, or do you think that you can go back to sleep?”

“That depends, will you be going to sleep?”

He thinks about it, but his body is still humming with adrenaline and energy. “Probably not.”

“Then get your star spangled ass up, Rogers; we got some sparring to do.”

*****

Daylight finds Steve and Tony sleeping in the living room area adjacent to the gym; neither of them having felt like the effort to return to their rooms was worth it after they cleaned up in the gym’s showers. Tony is sleeping face down on the couch with one arm dangling off the cushions, his fingers brushing the floor, while Steve is sprawling over the armchair, his feet barely even supported by its matching ottoman. They’d fallen asleep while watching episodes of Star Trek that Tony kept swearing were the best of the best. (Steve felt the one with the Gorn was a little much, but he didn’t say anything to Tony.)

Sam is the one who finds them, and he happily wakes them up by yelling that breakfast will be ready soon. Tony falls off the couch, cursing and mumbling about birds, and Steve jumps but otherwise remains in the chair.

Bruce and Pepper meet them upstairs in the kitchen, and the five of them eat breakfast together, talking about miscellaneous stuff, as if none of them want to actually mention the reason they’re all up that early. The reason brings itself up, however, when JARVIS announces that Maria Hill is there with the information Tony requested.

“Send her up, JARVIS.” Tony doesn’t even blink, he just drinks from his mug.

“Maria?”

He nods at Steve, setting his mug back on the table. “Yes, as my new personal assistant she is obligated to do the paperwork I don’t want to do.”

“I’m also far better at gathering intel on people who don’t want to be found,” adds Maria as she walks into the room, a thin manila folder in her hand. She nods at Bruce and Pepper, practically ignores Tony, and gives Steve a small smile as she holds out the folder to him. “This is for you, Captain.”

Steve raises an eyebrow as he takes it, glances from her to Tony, getting no further response from either of them until he opens it. His eyes skim the words inside—phrases like ‘last seen in Germany’ and ‘like a ghost’ catching his attention. “This is…”

“ _That_ is the best intel you’re going to get with S.H.I.E.L.D. down for the count. There are reasons why I hired super spies to be part of my perfectly innocuous technology company, and I figured I should give them a test run before the hard part begins.”

Maria scoffs at Tony’s response, but doesn’t directly contradict him. “From what I can tell, he made his way back to Europe two weeks ago after he spent almost a month meandering around North America. He hasn’t done anything except mind his own business, but there have been a few reports of a mysterious man stopping various misdemeanors all over the country.”

It makes him smile warmly because for the first time since waking up with the vaguest notion that he’d been dragged to shore, Steve felt like there really is a chance that Bucky is still out there—that he could still save his best friend. He stands up, ready to tell Sam it’s time for them to get a move on when Tony snaps his fingers at Steve to get him to stop.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot! You two can’t leave without one last thing.”

As Tony rushes off to get it, Steve yells after him, “What—Tony no! You’ve done enough!”

Tony chuckles as he grabs a square box from behind a couch and jogs back over. Smirking as he hands it to Steve, Tony says, “I don’t think you can leave without this though, Cap.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him, fully prepared to give back whatever the final gift is, and opens the box. He sucks in a breath as he sees what’s inside, a shaky laugh coming out of him as he sees the one thing he’d never thought he’d see again after the Potomac.

“My shield…Tony, how did you—?”

“It’s amazing what robots can do, especially when they’re made by yours truly.” Tony puffs up, incredibly proud of himself, and Steve is grinning so widely that he doesn’t even care about the inflation of Tony’s ego right now.

“Thank you, Tony…I—I don’t know what else to say.”

“Don’t mention it, Cap. I figured since good ol’Dad fished for you in the Arctic for decades, the least I could do is fish your shield out of the Potomac. Full circle and all that jazz.”

Steve lets out a choked laugh, but works hard at composing himself. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal that he has his shield back, and yet it’s the greatest gift Tony could have given him. He smiles at everyone, but not for too long so they hopefully don’t see just how wet his eyes are, and then he settles on Sam and asks, “Ready to go, soldier?”

Sam grins at him. “I’m ready whenever you are, Captain.”

“Alright then.” Steve slides his shield onto his arm, and a sense of calm settles over him. He salutes Tony, even though it makes Tony roll his eyes, and with the folder from Maria in his hand, he makes his goodbyes with Sam. Everyone wishes them luck, tells them to keep them updated, and that they’re rooting for them.

They ride the elevator down the Tower to the garage where one of Tony’s cars is waiting for them, their gear packed and loaded and ready for a trip on Tony’s private jet. As the doors open and they walk towards the car, Steve says, “Let’s go bring Bucky home.”

Their eyes meet, and Sam smiles warmly at him, saluting him this time. “Sir, yes, sir.”


End file.
